


The Real World Was Wide

by kindredinspirit



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Adulting is hard, F/M, Rating May Change, canon-compliant to end of season 3, relationship challenges, set after Queen's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22707352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindredinspirit/pseuds/kindredinspirit
Summary: “I remembered that the real world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of sensations and excitements, awaited those who had the courage to go forth into it's expanse, to seek real knowledge of life amidst its perils.”-Jane EyreAnne gets a teaching job in Toronto and she and Gilbert navigate a relationship where they both live in the same city.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 42
Kudos: 167





	1. A Momentous Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne receives an offer that launches her into a new chapter of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for clicking on my story! This is the first fanfic I've published on here, but I've had this idea in my head ever since Toronto came up in Season 3. When (because there is no if) the show continues, I wonder how long it will be before Anne herself shows up in Toronto. This is my imagining of how that might go...
> 
> I have quite a few chapters planned, so we'll see what happens. 
> 
> The title is from Jane Eyre, and there are also a few quotes from Little Women, which influenced L. M. Montgomery's writing.

Anne woke to sunshine warm on her cheeks as it streamed through the gable window. The only sounds were the quiet songs of birds paying tribute to the Snow Queen, and the gentle breeze across the fields. How she loved her home.

On that early morning, however, there was a knot that wound ever tighter in her stomach. Still, Anne was eager to start the day, for it would be one of magnitude and change. The idea of leaving Green Gables frightened her, made her feel ever so conflicted, but the adventure ahead thrilled her too.

Closing her eyes, as she sat on the edge of the bed, Anne memorized the tickle of the scrubbed floorboards beneath her bare feet. She wove the crocheted coverlet between her fingertips, and she savoured the ocean air as it danced through the open window and over her skin. It was only once she had completed this sacred ritual, that she took a deep breath, and pushed herself to stand.

When she was dressed, she glanced back at her pillow, where she had concealed the letter, and bit her lip before nodding to herself, and starting the day.

Past Jerry’s room, then down the stairs as quiet as a mouse so as not to rouse Matthew or Marilla. They would rise soon enough, and Anne needed this time of quiet reverence before the house came alive. Then she would be able to focus on what was ahead, and not on what would be left behind.

At last, scarcely containing the storm of emotions within her, Anne opened the kitchen door with as much care as she could manage so that it didn’t creak, and she entered into summer’s cathedral.

That was the moment when her breath finally caught, and tears rose in her eyes. It was the smell of Green Gables. Could she really choose to leave this wonderous place, _her home_ , behind for a far off land? It took everything in her not to run back up the stairs and tear that hateful, marvelous, wished-for letter to pieces.

 _We all have to grow up sometime; we might as well know what we want_. The words made her smile, so she sniffed and wiped her eyes, then set off, first to the chicken coop, sighing to herself as she remembered her fox, and the momentous circumstances of their friendship; then to the barn, where she nuzzled Belle, her first friend in Avonlea, and as Anne stroked Buttercup she recalled the night she had witnessed the colt’s birth, and the miracle that it was. What beautiful and exquisit memories she had made since coming to Green Gables, and how she would cherish them when she was so far away.

It wasn’t until she walked down the lane, through the haunted wood, and heard the echoes of her girlhood laughter with Diana that she finally gave herself up to tears. They were long overdue anyway. _Parting is such sweet sorrow_ , she thought, and to leave one’s _home_ , one’s first real and true _home_ was perhaps the most heartbreaking thing in a person’s life, for a home had a soul of its own. Surely heroes in novels must have felt the same despair as they set off on a quest, a sorrow that at times quelled all excitement for the adventure ahead. And how did they cope? For that excitement was there too, one mixed with reluctance and fear certainly, but an excitement that would not be quiet or brought to heel.

Anne leaned her back against a tree, and sighed. This was exactly what she had hoped for, but now the feelings inside her were so complex and at odds, that she nearly laughed at the idea that she had gotten herself into yet another complicated situation.

She had had weeks to get used to the possibility, for that’s all it was then, a possibility, of leaving not just Green Gables, but of leaving Prince Edward Island too. And it was true that Anne had travelled many times throughout her life, had lived all over Nova Scotia, but that was _before_ , before she’d known what being part of a family could mean. It wasn’t until the letter arrived that she had felt the magnitude of the distance her heart would take her from her beloved home.

“There’s post for you, Anne,” Marilla had called to her as she came in from a visit with Diana. “It looks rather official, I must say. Perhaps it’s your school placement for the fall.”

Anne had forced a smile as she passed through the kitchen, doging Marilla’s sideways glance, then had taken the letter immediately up to her room. In that moment the stairs had become the steps to the gallows, and she had known without knowing that everything would change as soon as she opened that letter. The future had come knocking, and Anne Shirley-Cutherbert had to answer.

She hadn’t meant to keep it a secret, not really. It had only been a whim in the beginning. She’d merely sent off the application after seeing the position advertised in the newspaper. It had seemed positively providential at the time, and, as such, all far too unlikely that anything would come of it. The idea that she would qualify for, let alone be offered the position, as lacking in experience as she was, had been nearly unimaginable…though she had imagined what it would be like. Many times.

Still, she’d never mentioned it. To anyone. Not Diana, nor Matthew or Marilla. Not even Gilbert, a thought that twisted that ever-present knot even tighter in her stomach. She’d never spoken of it, not aloud or in writing. Not once in the last three months. And now, with the weight of that secret threatening to pull her under the waves of her guilt, what had only been a curiosity, a whim, wishful thinking at best, had been handed to her, and that wish had come true.

_Dear Miss Shirley-Cuthbert,_

_We are pleased to offer you a one-year probationary teaching position at St. Clement’s School for Girls in Toronto. At the completion of the probationary period a panel will determine whether the contract will be renewed permanently…_

There were times since Anne had been home from Queen’s that she had allowed herself to forget the future, to forget the idea of growing up, because growing up meant making choices, difficult ones, and in her admittedly childish ideal, she wanted to have everything.

Anne took a slow, deep breath, and continued on her way down the path, but as she rounded the bend and saw Diana’s house beyond the trees, she couldn’t help but wonder whether the stirrings of guilt and deception deep within her were auspicious. Surely such a momentous change should be pure, and without shame, for it was one thing to be travelling so far away, but quite another that she’d kept even the hint of that change from those she loved. All spring and summer she had smiled and kept silent when others had spoken of the future, wondering at where they would end up in the fall.

Why hadn’t she said _anything_? When she’d received the letter from St. Clement’s her mind had been firmly made up, but what would the fallout of that decision be now? Would Matthew and Marilla be disappointed that she had chosen to start the next chapter of her life so far away? Would Diana feel the sting of betrayal that they, bosom friends to the end, had lived side by side for all those weeks and months, and Anne had never mentioned it? How could she have kept such a thing from her dearest bosom friend, her roommate and confidante?

And Gilbert.

What would Gilbert think? She felt her cheeks flush with shame at all the letters they had exchanged, and not once did she suggest the possibility that their lives might intertwine even more closely in the near future. Would he be happy at the idea of having her nearby once again?Yes, was the answer that immediately came to mind, but there were so many questions and fears and uncertainties that came along with that yes, not to mention that she had kept all indication of this— this _this_ a secret.

But it wouldn’t stay a secret much longer, because Gilbert would arrive on the afternoon train, home for the entire month of August, and she would have to share her news with him. She wouldn’t be able to contain it once she saw him in person, that was for sure and certain.

She would have to tell all of them. After today her secret future would be a secret no longer.

_Toronto. I’m going to teach in Toronto._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my work, and for any comments or kudos you may leave. The read and the engagement are appreciated more than you know. 
> 
> Next chapter coming soon!


	2. A Full Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne shares her news with Matthew and Marilla.

In the early morning sunshine, Anne found her way home on the dusty red road that stretched toward Green Gables. When she approached the white wooden gate, she caught a glimpse of Matthew as he ducked out of the barn, feedbag in hand.

Matthew had been the first person to love her, to _truly love her_ , within the realm of memory. He was a kindred spirit, and Anne knew that for the rest of her life, she would be grateful that the universe had seen fit to send her such a dear and faithful friend and father. He had accepted her without condition, and had wanted her from the start, and what orphan could ever forget the joyous feeling of being wanted? Now, as she made her way over to the chicken coop to share her news, the idea of leaving him broke her heart, and it broke a second time over at the certainty that it would break his too.

“You’re up early, Anne,” Matthew nodded as he spread feed for the chickens.

Anne approached gingerly, looking first at the ground, and then back up at him. “It’s a…big day today, Matthew.”

He raised his eyebrows expectantly at the hesitation in her voice, but his hand lowered, mid sweep when he turned and saw her face.

“Anne?”

There was no way to get through this easily. She was a grown woman, and had made a grown woman’s choice. The only thing left to do was face it head on.

“I’ve decided to take a teaching position,” she began the well-rehearsed phrase, her voice shaking when Matthew gave her a proud smile, “in Toronto.”

To his credit, no one except for those who knew him intimately would have caught the brief faltering in his expression, or the quick glance that darted to the house where Marilla was preparing breakfast.

“Well now,” he said, adjusting his hat, “that’s…that’s…a good ways from here.” He cleared his throat.“And the school?”

Anne couldn’t help the flash of excitement and the wild grin that overcame her at his question.

“Oh Matthew, it’s a dream. It’s a private college that’s only just opened.It’s called St. Clement’s, and the students are called _Clementines_ , can you imagine anything more romantical?”

“Can’t say that I could.” He gave her a small smile before she continued.

“The advertisement said that the school ‘endevours to teach a true appreciation for literature and the arts, and to cultivate curious minds’. It sounded as if it was calling out to me specifically, wouldn’t you agree?” Anne’s speech slowed at the last few words, as her enthusiasm for the school was dampened by the reality of Matthew standing before her trying his best to share in her joy.

“And Gilbert,” Matthew cleared his throat again, “he’ll be closeby, I suppose?”

Anne’s cheeks felt warm, and her throat felt tight. Did this happen to every girl, this feeling of heartache as she left her father’s side to be with her beau? Would Matthew think that she had chosen Gilbert over him and Marilla and Green Gables?

“Yes, but I’m not leaving just for him.” She’d said the last part louder than she’d intended to.

“Well now,” Matthew nodded, “he’s a fine young man. I won’t deny that I feel better knowing he’ll be there with you, when you’re so far away.” At this, Anne couldn’t contain herself any longer, and she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

“Oh Matthew, I’m going to miss you terribly.” She heard rather than saw as he dropped the handful of feed he’d been holding, and then wrapped his arms tightly around her. They stayed like that, savouring the moment, the togetherness, the providence that had brought them together, until finally Matthew pulled away, and when he spoke there was a rawness to his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Now you listen here, there are so many adventures ahead for you. I’ve known that since the first day I met you,” he said, and Anne’s eyes filled with tears. “I want you to make sure that you experience every last one of them, and that you live a life without regret.” 

“I’m afraid, Matthew,” she whispered, and a tear ran down her cheek. “I’m afraid of going so far away. I’m afraid of what will happen if I fail, or if I can’t get on without you and Marilla. I’m afraid of missing you, and of being alone. I’m so afraid of everything right now.” Matthew put a firm hand on each of her shoulders, and moved his face close to hers.

“Now, now, Anne. The only way I can see is for you to face that fear, and to live the life you dream of. You’re the bravest person I know, and that’s the truth of it. What was that name the Mi’kmaq girl gave you? Ka’kwet?”

At the mention of her dear friend, Anne stood a little taller, and held her chin high as she answered.

“Melkita’ulamun. A strong and brave heart.”

“There’s never been a name more fitting,” he said, shaking his head, tears in his own eyes now. Anne’s heart swelled with love to have such a beautiful guardian angel as Matthew Cuthbert.

“Matthew, I love you so much.”

“And I love you,” he said, and pulled her against him once again. “Does Marilla know, then?”

Anne shook her head and stepped back, “No, not yet.”

“Well, she’ll be wanting to know, so you get on in there.” Anne took slow breath as she glanced at the house. Her heart ached, but she felt braver now. “I say, the world is waiting for you, and it’s high time you went and met it.” Anne nodded, gave Matthew’s hand one last squeeze before heading for the porch, but she turned when Matthew called after her.

“And Anne, I can’t see that there’d be anything wrong with it if love was…part of your decision. Someone wise once told me just how important love was to a full life.”

“Thank you, Matthew.” He smiled at her one last time, before grabbing another handful of feed and returning to his work.

As she approached the kitchen door, Anne stopped to take in its early morning smells and to listen to the melody made by pots and pans, by plates and silverware. Finally, she opened the screen door and let it click shut behind her.

“Anne, where have you been?” Marilla said, moving swiftly around the kitchen. “Will you hurry up and set the— Anne, what’s the matter?”

“I have to tell you something Marilla.”

Marilla, who had been witness to many of Anne’s dramatic confessions over the years, must have sensed that this time was different, that a mature seriousness had entered with her and hung heavily over the kitchen.

She sat at the table, and waited for Anne to sit down beside her.

“I’ve decided to take a teaching position in Toronto, Marilla.”

Marilla opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again, drawing her eyebrows together, then nodding slowly.

“That’s wonderful, Anne. I’m very happy for you.” She gave Anne a small smile before standing up. “Now, will you please set the table. Breakfast will be ready in just a moment.”

Anne was too shocked to move for a moment. Whatever she had been expecting from Marilla, that hadn’t been it.

Breakfast was a subdued affair, without Anne’s usual chatter. Jerry kept sending her quizzical looks, until he finally tired of subtlty and asked,

“Why is everyone so quiet this morning?”

Anne looked quickly at Matthew, who gave her a small nod of encouragement. It was only fair, it had been her choice after all, so she swallowed her bite of toast, and spoke,

“I’m taking a teaching job in Toronto for September.” Jerry put down the piece of toast he’d been buttering.

“Toronto? But that’s so far.”

“I know it’s far, Jerry,” Anne rolled her eyes, and then dove back into her breakfast when she noticed Marilla watching her. 

Jerry took a bite of his toast, and looked off into the distance, as if contemplating a deep thought.

“I think it’s good, though,” he finally said, “you’ll ‘ave so many _opportunités_ when you go there.”

Anne softened at his words, understanding that Jerry’s opportunities in life had always been so limited in scope.

“Thank you, Jerry.” She gave him a small smile, and reached over to squeeze his arm.

“Besides, maybe you’ll get married while you’re there,” he chuckled, giving her a wink.

Anne wrenched her hand back as if she’d been burned.

“Jerry!” He winked at her again, and she felt her temper flare. When she spoke, her tone was low and measured, full of warning, as she tried to ignore the look passing between Matthew and Marilla, “I’m not getting married. Not anytime soon anyway.”

“Sure. Just wait until Gilbert hears that you’re moving to Toronto.”

Matthew pushed his chair back abruptly, sensing a war about to break out at the table.

“Alright, time to get to it, Jerry,” he said, and Jerry reluctantly followed him out into the yard, giving Anne one last wink before the door shut behind him.

Anne helped Marilla with the dishes, and then went back upstairs to get a book she wanted to return to the Barry’s library when she visited Diana later that morning.

“Anne,” Marilla’s voice called up the stairs, “come down here please.”

She found Marilla sitting on the porch, looking out over the fields. “Sit with me, please.”

Anne sat beside her, shifting in her seat, unsure of what was to come. For a woman as industrious as Marilla Cuthbert to be sitting idle on the porch before 9 o’clock in the morning something had to be disastrously wrong.

“Marilla, I’m sorry…“

“No, Anne,” she said, turning to face her, “I’m so very sorry for reacting the way that I did.”

“But, I—“ Marilla frowned at her.

“You know better than to interrupt, now let me finish.” Her face relaxed as she pulled Anne’s hands into her own. “You have such courage and strength, and I have always admired that about you, been frightened of it at times, too, mind,” she chuckled,“but know that I would never stand in your way. When the letter arrived the other day, I saw that it was from Toronto, and I think I knew then what it meant, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself.” She was looking back over the fields, and Anne did the same, drinking it all in, hands still clasped in Marilla’s. At last, she turned toward her mother once again.

“Marilla, I never meant to hurt you.” The replying look was a sharp one, one that meant to argue would mean a great deal of trouble.

“Of course you didn’t, so don’t even think it. I was just overwhelmed by the news is all.” She smiled, and gave a little sigh. “And Gilbert, he’s pleased, I expect?”

Anne pulled her hands out of Marilla’s and sat forward on the bench, looking at the ground.

“He doesn’t know yet.” She cast a sideways glance at Marilla and saw that her eyes had gone wide.

“You do beat all, Anne.”

“I applied on a whim, and it wasn’t until I had sent off the application that I understood just how much I wanted it. I was afraid that if I spoke of it that I would spoil it somehow and it wouldn’t come true.” She watched a flock of birds fly overhead, and followed their trail to the haunted wood in the distance. “Do _you_ think he’ll be happy?”

“Anne, how can you think otherwise? He’ll be absolutely beside himself. That boy loves you. No,” she shook her head, “that _man_ loves you, and a fine young man he is. I have no doubt that you two will take care of each other all the way out there together.”

“But what if—“

“Anne, there are so many what if’s that if you keep on down that road you’ll drive yourself mad.” She squeezed Anne’s hand, “And believe me when I say that if you don’t go, and take this opportunity, you will regret it, do you hear?” Anne sensed that there was something more than motherly advice behind Marilla’s words, but Marilla continued before she could ask.

“An opportunity to follow the man you love, while following _your_ passion at the same time doesn’t come along every day.”

The two women were silent again as they took in the beautiful summer weather, thinking about the past and the future, about opportunities lost and won. An idea began to form in Anne’s mind.

“Actually I disagree, Marilla. I’m starting to believe that we make opportunities for ourselves. I could have just as easily decided not to apply, and stuck with island schools.”

“You certainly could have, but that wouldn’t be our Anne.”

They smiled at each other, a smile that proclaimed love could travel any distance, no matter the miles between them.

“Marilla, may I go visit Diana? I have so much to tell her,” Anne said, rising from the bench. Marilla arched an eyebrow and gave her an appraising look.

“Diana doesn’t know either then, does she?”

“No…but—“

“Anne, I do hope that one day you realize that those who love you will stand by you, whether your plans are firm or fancy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> St. Clement's School in Toronto does exist. It was established in 1901, as Anne describes, and its students are called 'Clementines'. Aside from those few details, I will be exercising a great deal of artistic license, and I'll be moving its location from midtown to downtown, closer to U of T so our girl can be closer to Gilbert, of course. 
> 
> Thank you for the comments and the kudos - it has been such a pleasure seeing those since Chapter 1 went up! And don't worry, Gilbert will be along soon.


	3. An Undisclosed Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne shares her news with Diana, and Gilbert is delayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, Chapter 3 is up! Thank you for your continued support, through kudos and comments. This chapter is longer than the last two (combined?) so I hope it was worth the wait.

When Anne arrived at the Barry’s a short time later, the house was in an uproar.

“Mother’s preparing for the annual picnic,” Diana looked back as she led her upstairs and away from the commotion, “and she’s beside herself because some of the ingredients for her menu haven’t arrived.”

“But it’s not until next week? Isn’t there still time?” Anne asked, following her closely.

“Of course there is, but don’t tell Mother that.”

When Anne had knocked, she stood there for a full five minutes before anyone answered, despite being able to hear raised voices just on the other side of the door. When Mrs. Barry had finally realized that Mary Jo was too caught up trying to appease her mistress to open the door, that had led to another tirade. All the while, Anne stood there, biting her lip, searching for a way to edge around them so she could find Diana. Her bosom friend had only appeared on the landing once her mother’s shrill voice was directed up the stairs. Mrs. Barry looked like she was about to either implode or explode, so Diana hurried Anne away as quickly as possible.

Finally in the refuge of Diana’s bedroom, the door tightly shut behind them, the raven-haired girl fell back dramatically on the bed.

“I’m positively thrilled to be back at Queen’s in a month. I don’t know how I’ll get through these next few weeks. How did I ever survive it before?”

Diana’s worldview, which had been expanding slowly in the years since Anne arrived in Avonlea, had been thrown wide open during her time at Queen’s. College life was suiting her nicely. Since being back home, she complained frequently to Anne, usually good-naturedly, of how restrained she felt to be faced one again with the pressures and expectations placed on her by her parents. Although Anne was certain there were many disagreements ahead for the Barry family, from what she knew of her best friend, Diana was a force to be reckoned with, especially now after a year of college behind her.

When Anne perched on the bed, Diana sat up and clasped her hands tightly, “I heard Father talking yesterday, and they’re thinking about giving you the Avonlea school! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Seeing the excitement in Diana’s eyes, Anne felt like she was about to be sick. She had to figure out a way to tactfully tell Diana that it would not be possible for her to take the Avonlea school, and to reveal her as of yet undisclosed future to the friend whose trust she had so dreadfully betrayed. Anne’s mind spun desperately as she worked over what to say, forgetting all the she had rehearsed on her way from Green Gables. Her heart beat faster and faster, and there was a roaring in her ears, then her throat tightened and her cheeks got hot, until finally the words escaped her in a furious panic. “Diana, I’m going to Toronto!”

Diana’s eyes went wide and her mouth opened, and they looked at each other silently for a horrible moment before Diana dropped her eyes to their hands, still locked together in her lap. After a moment, she squeezed Anne’s fingers and spoke quietly,

“I know, Anne.”

Her words took a moment for Anne to register. She twisted so that she was sitting cross-legged, facing her best friend. “You do? But, how?”

Diana looked up and met her eyes. “Of course I do, Anne. I remember the day you saw the advertisement. I knew you would apply, and when you didn’t mention it, I was certain.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Diana shrugged. “I knew you’d tell me when you were ready,” she gave Anne a sad smile, “I guess I just wish you’d been ready sooner.”

Anne opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words. Why hadn’t she been ready to tell Diana sooner? Why hadn’t she told anyone about her application? What was she truly so concerned about? She thought of Matthew and Marilla, and her beautiful friends who only wanted her to be happy, to succeed and fulfill her dreams. She thought of Gilbert, whose letters were filled with such love and devotion that she felt stronger and more capable than ever before. And still…something was standing in her way, a buzz of apprehension and unease that she had yet to examine. Unable to untangle her thoughts, she lay back on the bed, her eyes tracing the plasterwork on the ceiling. Diana settled beside her, and for a time they were quiet.

At last, Anne turned her head, watching her bosom friend’s face, still turned to the ceiling. “I’m sorry, Diana,” she whispered, but Diana shook her head before she in turn looked at Anne, her eyes earnest.

“Don’t be. Don’t let anything hold you back from enjoying this. I know you’re afraid.”

“It’s so far away, Diana, and what if I don’t know what I’m doing, and…”

“No, Anne. You’re afraid of what this will mean, for you and Gilbert, and you’re afraid of what others will think when you follow a _boy_ half way across the continent. You’re afraid of what you’ll think too. I think that terrifies you even more.”

Anne looked away and thought about what her friend had said, turning it over in her mind, weighing it. Finally she sighed. As always, Diana saw right through her, knew her better than she knew herself, holding up a mirror so that she could examine her very soul.

When Anne stayed quiet, Diana sat up and began again, “You’re fiercely independent. Do you remember when you declared yourself to be the ‘Bride of Adventure’?” They both smiled at that memory. It was true that Anne had never really considered that she would have another option, not that she was certain she did now, but being the Bride of Adventure left her future open to so many possibilities. The thought of limiting those possibilities caused her throat to tighten again.

“I love Gilbert, Diana, I love him more than I ever thought I could love a person, and I believe he loves me, more than I ever thought I could be loved by another. But…”

“But?”

“But I love other things too. I love Matthew, and Marilla, and Green Gables. I love you, dearest Diana, and I worry that those other parts of myself will be eclipsed by my love for him.”

“Anne…” All of the suppressed thoughts from the last weeks finally came rushing to the surface, like a dam within her had burst, and she sprung up onto her knees on the bed.

“I’m not afraid of adventure, Diana, I’m truly not. I’m afraid of losing myself, that my dreams will become secondary. So many women fall in love, then get married, and become mothers, and any other dream they had for themselves is forgotten, forgotten so long that it disappears entirely.”

“Don’t you want those things too, Anne? Don’t you want to be a wife and a mother someday?”

“I think so?” Anne felt like her skull was about to burst from pressure. “How am I supposed to know what I want _now_? It makes me feel like I can’t breath to think that I’d have to decide, to decide before my life has barely begun. I wouldn’t be allowed to teach if I were married, Diana. I don’t even know yet if I’ll like teaching, but to know that it has to be either or, that I can’t be both a teacher and a wife? I don’t want to limit myself, and I don’t want to be rushed into anything because _propriety_ expects it of me.” Anne was panting with the intensity of her revelation. Diana was studying her calmly, with only a slight frown on her face.

“Then why did you apply to this school in Toronto? You could have had your pick of schools on the island, or you could have gone to Nova Scotia if you wanted to go further afield.”

The storm inside Anne’s mind calmed as the answer to Diana’s question came to her, and she began to breathe evenly again.

“Because I love him. I love him and I want to be nearer to him. I long for him, I long to see his smile, to hear his voice.”

Diana gave her a small smile and nodded, as if this was the answer she was expecting. “And his splendid chin?” she asked, with one raised eyebrow.

Anne grinned and laughed before turning inward again. “How do I reconcile this within myself?” she asked as she sunk back on the bed, wringing her hands in her lap.

Diana took a breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know that there is anything to reconcile, Anne. You love Gilbert, and he loves you. You want to teach, and live your life, and you know he would support you in that.” Anne was quiet then, wincing as she tried to avoid the inevitable question. “What _does_ Gilbert think of all this?” When Anne didn’t reply, interested as she was in the folds of her dress that she was worrying between her hands, Diana once again raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t told him?” Anne shook her head ever so slightly, not looking up. “Why not, Anne?”

“I don’t know Diana,” she wailed, “…a year ago he was ready to propose to another girl.”

“Oh Anne,” she replied, pulling one of Anne’s hands into her own, “after that fiasco, I think he’s likely learned his lesson on rushing into marriage.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “I certainly hope so.” She was quiet again, before continuing with wariness in her voice, “What if I can’t live up to his expectations?”

Diana huffed, “Anne, he was ready to be alone for _the rest of his life_ if you didn’t love him.” Anne thought back to the letter Gilbert had reproduced at her request, including it with another that teased her gently about ripping up the original. She recalled his words, ‘ _You, and you alone are the keeper of the key to my heart_ ’ and her stomach twisted. What if she wasn’t up to the task? Diana’s voice called her back to reality. “I think it’s safe to say that you are everything he wants.”

“But we’ve been corresponding through letters for the past year. We’ve only seen each other once since then. It’s not _entirely_ ridiculous to think that things will be different, that we’ll need to navigate being an _us_ when we’re actually able to _be_ an _us_. What if when he can actually court me in person he realizes the mistake he’s made?”

Diana moved closer, so that they were almost nose to nose, and she looked at Anne sternly.“Gilbert loves you. He has since you first smashed your slate over his head. And have you considered that maybe he worries about the same thing? That he won’t be able to live up to _your_ expectations?”

“But— it’s Gilbert,” Anne spluttered, as if those words explained everything.

“Anne, he never thought you could feel the same way about him. He never thought _he_ was good enough for _you_. Yes, listen—“ Diana said as Anne opened her mouth to retort, “and it wasn’t until I took him to task on the train that day that he even _considered_ you might love him.” She laughed, “Even after he kissed you, he _still_ wasn’t sure, and had to clarify that you actually had feelings for him, because in his mind it was that far out of the realm of possibility!”

Anne felt a shiver go through her at the memory of that glorious day, and at the anticipation of more kisses to come now that she and Gilbert would be reunited.

“You know you have to talk to him about all this, don’t you?” Diana’s voice was flat.

Anne sighed, “I don’t want to disappoint him, Diana, but I don’t want to disappoint myself even more.”

“Then _talk_ to him, Anne. Please don’t put us all through another tragicomedy like last summer. You and Gilbert have to break your habit of miscommunication. It’s the only way to move forward.”

“You’re very wise, Diana. What will I do without you when I’m so far away?” She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and when they met Diana’s, she saw her emotions mirrored there.

Diana’s voice trembled a little when she answered, “The same thing we were going to do if I was in Paris. A letter a day.” She nodded and held out her pinky, looking between Anne and her outstretched hand. Anne smiled through her tears and began to raise her hand in response, but then Diana spoke again, “And promise me you’ll come home someday.” A sob caught in Anne’s throat at these words, and she nodded fervently before linking her pinky through her bosom friend’s. 

***

The afternoon was an agonizing exercise in patience. With the train due to arrive in Bright River at 4 o’clock, Anne calculated that it would take some time to get back to the Blythe-Lacroix farm, and then perhaps Gilbert would eat supper, and then ride over to see her. Of course, when one wants time to pass quickly, however, it stubbornly does the opposite.

First, Anne helped Marilla do some baking, until Marilla finally sent her out of the kitchen because she spent more time watching the clock than she did the mixing bowl. Her time spent in the barn with Matthew was just as distracted, and she upended the milking pan twice when she thought she heard the gate creaking open and jumped up to take a look. She gave up trying to read a book when she realized she’d read the same paragraph more than a dozen times and still had no idea what it said.

When it was finally time to help prepare supper, Anne was thrilled to know that her wait was nearing an end, but she was once again sent out of the kitchen when Marilla caught her just before she grabbed a pan from the stove with her bare hand.

“Anne! Gilbert will surely want to find you all in one piece when he arrives,” Marilla scolded her with a stern look.

Anne sighed and trudged out onto the porch. Jerry and Matthew were making their way in from the fields, and though it was nearing 6 o’clock now, the summer sunlight was still in its full splendour. She couldn’t help but look down the lane, hopeful that she’d see Beau come trotting toward her, but there were no galloping hooves, only the sound of the wind in the trees.

Finally, when Anne had washed and dried all of the supper dishes, and her nerves were so raw that she jumped up at the slightest sound outside, Marilla relented and allowed her to take Belle over to see what had become of Gilbert.

“Suppose he decided not to come, Marilla, or” her eyes went wide, “suppose there’s been a tragical accident, and he’s stranded somewhere, hurt and doesn’t remember who he is.”

“Or,” Marilla said as she wiped the table, “perhaps his train was late and he wants to have a leisurely supper with Bash and his family after a long journey.”

Anne nodded slowly, turning over that possibility in her mind, before shaking her head vehemently. “I just don’t think I’ll be able to sit still until I know for sure,” and she turned to open the screen door, but stopped suddenly. “Marilla, you don’t think he’s changed his mind about me, do you?”

Marilla stopped her tidying, and came to stand in front of her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. “No, Anne. I don’t think he has changed his mind about you,” and she raised her eyebrows to emphasize her words. “Now go, before it starts to get dark.”

At the Blythe-Lacroix homestead, Bash had just put Dellie down, and Mrs. Lacroix was doing some mending in the sitting room. But there was no Gilbert. As it turned out, the ferry from the mainland had been delayed due to mechanical issues, and a number of the trains had been held up in response. Bash had found all of this out when he’d taken the wagon to Bright River for Gilbert’s anticipated 4 o’clock arrival.

“Station master said they’d gotten a telegram, but didn’t know when the train would finally get in,” Bash said as he sat down at the kitchen table. “Elijah left not long ago to see if it had arrived yet.” Anne sat down across from him and her disappointment must have been evident because Bash gave her a cheeky smile and said, “But don’t be worrying yourself, Anne. I can imagine he’ll be wanting to see you first thing in the morning.”

“Oh Bash, I thought my day had been an interminable wait, but Gilbert must be absolutely itching to get home, especially after he’s come so far already.” She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand. “For the island to be within sight across the straight, to be able to _see_ home, and not to be able to reach it, oh, that must be the height of anguish and desperation.”

Bash chuckled and shook his head as he rose from the table. “Yes, I’m thinking that you’re probably right. Now, why don’t you be getting along home now.”

Anne exhaled a long breath, and then pushed back her chair. “I suppose I should be getting Belle stabled for the night. Marilla doesn’t like me to ride in the dark.” She put her hand on the doorknob, and looked over her shoulder at Bash who was watching her with an amused look. “You’ll tell him I came by? I’d hate for him to think I was indifferent to his absence.” Bash grinned at this and moved to open the door for her and they stepped out onto the porch. “I don’t think indifference is what he’s thinking after all those letters you’ve been writing him.”

The evening air was cool against Anne’s now flushed cheeks as she untied Belle and gave Bash one last wave before making her way back to Green Gables. As she rode, she made peace with the idea that she would not see Gilbert that day, that she would see him tomorrow, and that plans change with unforeseen circumstances, and there was simply nothing either of them could do about it. Still, Marilla, Matthew, and Jerry couldn’t have helped but sense the cloud of melancholy that had settled over her by the time she had put Belle away and come into the house.

After a brief explanation, in which she gave an unsuccessful performance of someone who was unperturbed by the recent turn of events, she made her way upstairs and got ready for bed, even though the sun had not yet set. The sooner she went to bed, the sooner it would be morning, she reasoned to herself as she put on her nightgown and washed her face. She took down her hair and braided it over her shoulder, looking at herself in the mirror. _You’ve waited so long already, another few hours won’t make much difference. Sleep now._

But she wasn’t tired, and after laying in bed for an hour or more, staring at the ceiling watching the sunlight disappear, she decided to get up and go to the window. She sat on the sill, with her feet up on her desk chair, as fireflies danced in the darkness below. She’d not lit her lamp, so she could see the multitude of stars overhead, and the waxing moon was beginning to rise. The crickets sang, and the animals shuffled in their pens as they settled for the evening. Anne held her breath as a hush fell over Green Gables and seemed to extend to the very ends of the earth. After a time she heard the creak of the stairs as Marilla and Jerry made their way to their beds, and finally the world was still once again.

At some point she must have dozed off, her head resting against the window frame, for she was lulled from sleep by a whisper in the moonlight.

“Anne…Anne…” the wind seemed to call to her before she opened her eyes. The moon was high in the sky now, a sliver like a fingernail.

“Anne,” the summer night murmured again and Anne pulled her shawl tighter around her and shut her eyes, wishing she could make her bed in the Snow Queen’s branches.

“Carrots!” Anne’s eyes flew open. There was only one person who called her Carrots. She nearly tumbled out of the window in her surprise to find a young man standing down below, the moonlight tracing his dark curls.

She gasped and felt dizzy. He was here, Gilbert was here. “Stay right there,” she whispered, “I’ll be right down.” She threw off her shawl, and hurried down the stairs. It took everything in her not to throw open the door, letting it crash against the house, but when at last she stood there, on the steps, as she had in Charlottetown all those months ago, the world around her seemed to stop. She swallowed as she took him in, _her Gilbert Blythe_ , standing on the grass before her, his hands in the pockets of his suit, rumpled from travel, his chest heaving as though he was trying to catch his breath, as though he had run all the way from Toronto to find his way to her. The idea that he was here, right here, after being so far away felt miraculous and magical, and Anne worried that if she moved he might vanish, like a dream on the wind.

When her eyes finally found his, however, and she saw the same longing and disbelief there, as though she too were a vision of the night, she smiled, a little giggle escaping her lips as she hurled herself toward him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her forehead against his. She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent, and felt as he wrapped his arms around her waist, tentatively at first as his fingertips flickered across her skin through the thin fabric of her nightgown. She wondered for a moment, what Mrs. Lynde would say to her out here in her nightgown, in the arms of Gilbert Blythe, but she quickly dismissed that thought and only pulled him closer.

“You’re here,” she breathed, and opened her eyes to look up at him.

“Bash told me you came by,” he whispered, his forehead still against hers, “I’m sorry I made you worry.” He closed his eyes again, and they were so close that Anne felt his eyelashes tickle her cheeks. “The ferry was delayed, and then the train too, but Elijah picked me up from the station, and I came here as soon as I got home, on the chance that you’d still be awake.”

Anne pulled back slightly, so that she could see his face. “You came all this way in the dark?”

Gilbert opened his eyes, pulling his eyebrows together, a smile on his lips. “After hundreds of miles over land and sea, what’s a short walk to your door?” Anne giggled and nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. He held her against him, and his fingers pressing into her back and waist made her shiver.

“Sorry, Anne, are you cold? I didn’t think—“

“No,” she stopped him, pulling back to look him in the eye, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, “I’m not cold.” He seemed to understand her in that moment, because his eyes flickered down to her lips before he bent down and closed his eyes. Oh, how Anne had missed the feel of his mouth on hers, the sensation of their warm breaths mingling together, as they held each other tightly. She couldn’t imagine how she’d lived without it since Christmas.

Gilbert’s lips finally moved from hers, leaving a trail of kisses across her jawline, and behind her ear, and she felt a pull deep within her. “Anne,” his breath hot on her throat, “can I see you tomorrow?”

She nodded slowly, as if pulled out of a trance. “Of course,” she said, trying to slow her breathing.

“I have to get some sleep now. I didn’t sleep at all on the train, and …” he said, shaking his head, “…but tomorrow, I’ll be rested, and I have all day, so…”

“I’ll pack a lunch,” Anne said, smiling, her eyes scanning his face. She noticed now just how tired he really was, despite the brightness in his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll come over after breakfast then,” he nodded, though his eyes had a curious look to them, as though he was worried she might vanish the moment he let her go.

Anne bit her lip as she tried to stop herself from bursting with happiness. “I’m so glad you’re here, Gil,” she said softly, before tugging gently on his neck. His lips moved against hers, softly at first, and then with an intensity that made her forget who and where she was. When he clutched at the fabric of her nightgown, balling it in his fists at her lower back and hip, she forgot that there was anything else but her lips against his, and his tongue in her mouth, and the only sensation was a series of wild tremors that shot through her, and left her clinging to him in need of something more, something that she didn’t yet have a name for. And when Gilbert at last released her, and his fingers lingered on her waist before drifting over her hips as he dropped his arms to his sides, Anne feltsomething of magnitude shift between them. He stepped away from her, breathing deeply, and whispered, “Goodnight,” before slipping back into the darkness.

It wasn’t until later, when Anne was snug in her bed, having watched Gilbert’s silhouette disappear down the lane, that she remembered the news she had to share with him. What had passed between them had charged her news with as much electricity as the air before a summer storm, and when she remembered how Gilbert’s hands had felt moving over her skin, pulling at her nightgown, she smiled to herself with the knowledge that such moments would not be as fleeting from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Anne still hasn't revealed her news to Gilbert, but after the reunion they just had, I don't think he'll mind, do you? 
> 
> Anne is progressive, and no nonsense about her wants and desires, so a big part of this story is exploring that within the context of the time period. She is and will always be a thorn in the side of those who refuse to amend the status quo, and she does so unabashedly. Her fears about having to give up so much in order to be a wife are not unfounded, as it would be almost another twenty years before female teachers could keep their jobs once married. 
> 
> Also, Anne may not yet have a name for that need she's feeling while kissing Gilbert, but she doesn't seem embarrassed or ashamed of it. The Victorian era placed strict restraints on women's sexuality, so expect to see conflict between that and Anne's doubtlessly sex-positive attitude. 
> 
> I'm glad you're all along for the ride with me as we see where this goes! I appreciate every single one of you who leaves kudos, shoots me a comment, or simply clicks and takes a wander through the story. 
> 
> If you haven't signed the petition to renew the show for a fourth season, make sure you head on over and do that, and if you have signed, share it with as many people as you can: https://www.change.org/p/awae-fans-renew-anne-with-an-e-for-season-4


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